


It’s not as fun at it looks like

by szra_mix



Category: Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger!, Nativity!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Near Death Experiences, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 23:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20182525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szra_mix/pseuds/szra_mix
Summary: When Mr. Poppy said it will be a fun, quick way straight to the singing competition, no one thought that it could go wrong in so many ways. Never mix aquaphobia with actually swimming in the river on boats. Never.





	It’s not as fun at it looks like

Obviously, it couldn’t be a normal school, a normal teacher or a normal class! No! It had to be some bloody loony with a mind of a five year old who was desperate to go with his little army to Wales! For some Christmas songs competition. CHRISTMAS SONGS COMPETITION! It couldn’t be something normal...or at least something that his brother won’t be at. Millions of thoughts were swirling inside Mr. Peterson’s mind. How he could fall so damn low? From being an “almost” father with steady job and loving wife to a hostage taken by seven years old children and one not quite healthy in head adult. At this exact moment he was swimming in a pumped up boat with little kids on deck. Amazing, right? Even with life jacket and helmet his breath was too fast to be even considered normal. While looking at the smiling and screaming in excitement children he was in charge of he could only see his brother and him some years ago. While looking at laughing Mr. Poppy he only saw his father frowning in disappointment. While looking at the speeding water he only saw himself being kept under the surface. And when the boat jumped and due to losing his balance he fell in the water, he was a goner.  
He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t even think of breathing. The flow surrounding him was too fast and too wild. He opened his eyes but saw only whiteness. Too much light and too much nothingness made him blind. He was sure someone was screaming at him. Or was it screaming for him? He tried to shout back, to say he’s fine, but the liquid made its way inside his mouth and nose, forcing itself into his lungs and body. He coughed but it only made things worse. More of the cold water was now inside him then outside. His vision was swimming, ironic, isn’t it? From pure white with blue dots to white again. After few hours (or seconds?) the view started to become more blurry and dark. His skin was numb, fingers and limbs not responding even if he tried to move them. And then for sure, he saw his father. His father throwing tantrums at him, calling him names. Holding him underwater even when he was trying to break from the grip. Smacking him over the face when he get back on the surface. And his brother, Roderick. The better one. Always more successful, more worthy, more...everything. And who was he? A thin, weird man with too many dreams and too few ambitions to be something useful. A playtoy, being less important then mood on his shoes. Damn, he seriously was nothing...Maybe it was better for the word if he actually get with the tide? No more worrying other people, no more disappointed looks and no more failed expectations. Mr. Poppy will get the kids to the contest without his complaining and everyone will be happy. Yeah, it was good deal. Peace on his side, peace on others side. Win-win. And when he finally made his mind and closed his eyes someone pulled him back.  
•••••••  
The moment Mr. Poppy suggested going on the boats he knew something was bothering Mr. Peterson. The normally pale teacher became even more white and his big brown eyes widened in...fear? Or was it just disbelief? Probably. But it was the best way to go! Quick, not that dangerous and simply full of fun! Even the donkey was okay with the idea. And cmon, if the donkey was okay, then what could go wrong? Oh. So much. After few difficult and wild waterfalls he was sure he hadn’t heard Mr. Peterson in awhile. And when he turned around and didn’t see him on the deck he knew it wasn’t funny anymore. The kids didn’t seem to be so worried but the lack of his partner in crime wasn’t making him happy and too overexcited. He somehow brought both boats to the shore and instructed the oldest kid to look after the others. And then he jumped back in the water. And damn, it was a bad idea. The strength of the river was too much for him and he couldn’t swim successfully in it. But you know, the need speeds the action. In one fraction of a second he saw a coated in brown humanlike figure.  
\- MR. PETERSON! MR. PETERSON!  
He swam faster then in his entire time, trying to get to the other person. The freezing feeling of a cold water wasn’t helping but if he was not feeling good, then what had Mr. Peterson felt? Due to his worries the now for sure, teacher, wasn’t responding, or moving in this case.  
\- “Cmon, cmon, Desmond, you can do this, please, hang on Mr. Peterson...”  
Only one meter was separating him from the other man and he know he had to break the distance in a record time. And after what felt like months he get his grip on the others arm. Mr. Peterson didn’t have his lifejacket and his coat was torn on the side. He dragged him (he still don’t know how) on the nearest piece of steady land, what happened to be a giant rock. Better this then nothing, huh? And when they were finally safe he immediately get to first aid help. He laid Mr. Peterson gently on his back, tilting his head back and checking if the man was breathing. And shit, he wasn’t even trying to get any breath out of his lungs.  
\- Cmon, man, don’t die on me.  
Okay, let me stop this for a second. I know that my dear reader is a really smart person and I hope we all know how (at least in theory) to do RKO? Especially in drowning cases? If not, please go on some website and check it cause I’m not even trying to make it into short story words. It’s a important thing. Save lives, okay? Thanks. And now, back to the plot.  
~some rly stressful scenes later~  
When Mr. Poppy was sure that his actions weren’t working in the slightest and the sounds that children above them were making sounded only like mourning for someone’s dead, Mr. Peterson took a shuddered breath, turned on his side and painfully vomited all of the water he had in himself. Mr. Poppy only cried in relief. The almost dead one was still dry heaving. Desmond held the poor man by his sides, stroking them gently. He was crying, yes, he was, he wasn’t even denying it. He was sure he had lost his friend, someone surprisingly close to him. Mr. Peterson was now trembling next to him, trying to look at the other teacher. Jesus. He only had remembered the feeling of floating and a sharp tug.  
\- Mr. Poppy...? - his voice was so weak and scratchy.  
Desmond smiled at him.  
\- Yeah?  
\- What happened?  
And it sent the brightest person in the world over the edge. He hugged him tightly, sobbing into his chest. Now he was able to hear his heartbeat. His almost steady heartbeat. Few minutes earlier it wasn’t there. He still felt the cold skin, cold lips under his touch. He was dead...he was dead for five fucking minutes. He was on the other side.  
\- Five minutes? I was...gone? For five minutes?  
He looked up to see calm expression of the brown eyed man. He said it aloud?  
\- You saved me, didn’t you?  
Mr. Poppy nodded slowly. He wasn’t ready though for what followed it.  
\- Why?  
And before he had the guts to answer they heard screams of their class members. They were clapping, crying and laughing.  
\- I think we need to get to them, Mr. Poppy, find some place to stay and rest.  
He met the shocked face of the other man and got up without thinking. He lost his balance once more but this time strong arms wrapped around his middle, holding him steadily.  
\- Cmon, Mr. Peterson, kiddos are waiting.  
~finding a cave, group hugging and other stuff later~  
It was dark outside. The only thing lightning up the cave was a small fireplace they made. Mr. Peterson was sitting by it in only his underwear, wrapped in some spare blankets, still shaking like a leaf. He was tired, but the knowledge of being dead for some time made him scared of closing his eyes. He looked at Mr. Poppy and met a worried gaze. He smiled softly.  
\- Something is bothering you, Mr. Poppy?  
Desmond sat closer to him, trying not to wake up the sleeping children.  
\- I should be asking this question here, don’t you think?  
Donald laughed quietly.  
\- Yes, I guess, but you seem upset...so. Are you okay?  
\- Why had you said that?  
\- Said what?  
\- After I confirmed that I saved you, you asked me “why?”. What was that supposed to mean?  
Mr. Peterson’s expression darkened. Shit. He hadn’t meant to let it pass his lips...it wasn’t supposed to be anyone’s cause of trouble.  
\- I guess it was just...shock?  
\- Who are you trying to lie to?  
Mr. Poppy wasn’t looking mad, his eyes expressed only sadness and actual concern. He rested his head on Mr. Peterson’s shoulder.  
\- We both know it’s not true. I don’t want to ask that, but...are you tried to...  
\- ...kill myself? No...  
He stared at the man laying on him. God, how this guy became more like a brother to him in one day then his actual brother in his whole life?  
\- I just...panicked...my dad...he had this plan for “making us man”, you know, me and my brother, Roderick. He thought it was a great way to teach us. Yeah. A+ for parenting. He made us stay underwater...and it wasn’t a problem for Roderick...but I couldn’t. Cmon, look at me, I’m a whimp, not muscles or anything. He held me under the surface until I almost passed out and then hit me. Bright childhood, wasn’t it?  
The silent sob he heard wasn’t something he expected. Neither was another hug. But this time, they landed on the solid ground, Mr. Poppy sliding his hands under the blankets and holding the thin body close to him. Donald was still cool, but not deadly cold. He wasn’t ready tho for Mr. Poppy touching him when he was almost naked. Desmond was crying silently into crook of his neck, muttering how he didn’t deserve it and how amazing person he is. And Mr. Peterson found it actually soothing. People weren’t this close and open with him, so he wasn’t used to this but Mr. Poppy was hell different then other people.  
\- You know, Mr. Peterson? I think we can go to this competition and kick yours brothers ass. And we do it in big style.  
\- Of course, Mr. Poppy.  
He didn’t know when or how, but they felt asleep. Yeah. Him being almost naked and almost sexually abused by Mr. Poppy and surrounded by kids felt save and comfortable enough to fell peacefully asleep. And when he woke up, he was in a centre of a massive, class bounding group hug, crushed under weight of Desmond now fully cuddling to him. And Jesus how happy he was to actually be a part of it. And you may ask how he managed to walk all the way to the Wales in obviously wet clothes? Well, it occurred that Mr. Poppy took second set of super warm, super colourful and super too big clothes with him. And go to hell if you think that Mr. Peterson wasn’t proud showing like that for the competition, winning it, becoming a father and making it way back to home. From being a normal, zero one person he became an adventurer in two days. He gained one weird big child brother, a small class of devils, two kids of his own and something that you may call self courage. Well, maybe being dead for few minutes can do you something good? Please, don’t try it tho.


End file.
